The Truth
by egyptiancatgoddess
Summary: "It's all a charade," you said. "They'll never know... Thiefshipping. Yaoi, lemon.


Someone pointed out in my reviews that I was missing some of the quotations for this one. *shakes fist at text and uploads as a Word document* Hopefully this time it came out better. ^_^

Once again, my fabulous plot bunny has given me the urge to write Thiefshipping. Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Warnings: Yaoi and a lemon.

Thanks to ruby_shards for being an amazing beta!

* * *

Headphones on, music blaring. I'm trying so hard not to listen to the sounds coming from your room.

"It's all a charade," you said. "They'll never know."

If it's a charade, how can you take it this far?

I can practically see what you're doing to her; the way the bed squeaks, the way she moans. You've done the same things to me. You let yourself go when you were with me, in a way you'll never let go with her.

You looked so terrified when someone made the comment about us fighting like a married couple- pupils mere dots in a sea of lavender.

That one comment changed everything.

"My family can't know," you said that night, burying your face in my chest. "They'll kill me. Literally. I'm supposed to take over father's business… And my family doesn't take kindly to…" You bit your lip, unable to say it. "My sister already suspects we're more than roommates."

Why did I agree to this? I didn't want to lose you. But now I have to grit my teeth and try to block the images that those sounds bring. I hate myself for being so weak, for agreeing to this. I should've just said fuck it. We are what we are; nothing is going to change that. I love you, dammit. They can go fuck themselves if they have a problem with it.

Even though I try to ignore you, I let my eyes glaze over, listening. I can see it so well, what you're doing to her; I remember what we did the last time- the time before she came along. How you teased me until I slammed you against the wall and took you in the entryway. And after that the couch, the kitchen table, the shower - no surface in the apartment was safe from our passion.

Memories flood back. Your skin, covered in a fine sheen of sweat as you thrust languidly, teasingly. Your eyes clouded with lust as you pound me into the mattress. That, at least, is a comforting thought: you don't love her. She'll never have you like I've had you. It doesn't make me feel much better as I hear her moan.

Hopefully you've worn her out and she can get the fuck out of our apartment.

"You didn't finish…" Her voice drives me up a wall. I grit my teeth, eyes staring blankly at the computer screen as you mutter something about preventing pregnancy.

I know the truth; you won't finish because you don't love her, but you don't want to hurt her. You're too afraid of losing yourself, of saying _my name_ as you climax.

Clothes rustling, quiet conversation. A door opens and shuts. She's gone.

I can feel you watching me from the doorway. I hate you right now, for what you've done to me, for what you've done to us. But I despise myself more for allowing this to happen. For allowing this charade to continue, cutting into my heart every time.

"Kura…" Your hand on my shoulder; I flinch. "Please, look at me."

No. I know why you do this. I've accepted it, but I don't have to like it. I may enjoy our encounters, hot and hard and fast, I may enjoy when you tie me to the bed and fuck my brains out, but I'm not that much of a masochist.

You make a strangled noise I can't place, and I have to turn, I have to face you. Your eyes… you never did hide your emotions well, and right now your internal battle is written all over them.

You hate yourself for this. For hurting me, for hurting her. For betraying your family, even though they'd rather kill you than allow you to be what you are.

We stand here, staring at each other, caught up in our own painful emotions. Hating ourselves for loving, and loving each other anyway. We'll both break if this charade continues. It's not fair- to you or to me- it's not like I give a damn about her. Let's face it: she knows I want you; she flaunts your relationship in front of me, that bitch- each look, each kiss, each caress another stab to my tortured soul.

I can't help myself; I wrap my arms around your shaking form and bury my face in your silky hair. Your hands claw up my back and fist desperately in my unruly silver mane. You mumble, rapid-fire Arabic, and I catch enough to know it's about your family. My hands move in small circles on your back of their own accord, and I begin humming softly; anything to calm you down. Your shaking stops, your hands become less desperate, but you still keep your face pressed in the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent, breathing deeply. When you finally pull away, our eyes lock- the pain, the self-loathing are all still there, partially hidden by the tears in your eyes, so evident.

"Please…" I'm not used to begging, even to you. I just can't take it- I hate this act. Your sad smile says you understand- you feel the same way.

"…I love you."

Three little words- words never expressed until now. Neither of us wanted to say it, afraid that our world would crumble once reality set in.

"I fucking love you." It sounds so strange- these words, my voice. Reality hits then- I've passed the point of no return with that admission. And I couldn't give less of a damn. We're here, we aren't accepted, but we're still standing. The rest of the world can go fuck itself for all I care.

My lips descend on yours before you can respond. Hands caressing, needing to memorize every inch of exposed skin. Tongues dancing, desperately tasting each other. We pull apart too soon, needing oxygen.

"Kura…" Your eyes are dark with desire. "I need you…"

I've been sitting on the edge of madness and lust since you took her into your room. Those three words and your tone push me over that edge. I want nothing more than to bury myself in you, hear you scream my name. My sweatpants feel tighter with each heartbeat as I devour you visually- your hair sticking to your forehead and neck, your beautiful eyes almost amethyst from lust, your kiss-swollen lips, the goosebumps on your arms and chest where your sweat has dried, the loose black sweat pants that hang low on your hips, leaving nothing to my imagination.

I pull you against me again, feeling your need through the clothing that separates us; you're just as ready for this as I am. I can't stand it. I'm done waiting. I pull you to the bed, kissing you fiercely, drawing blood from your lip, reveling in your moans. I want to throw you down and fuck you, but a small, rational part of my mind makes me pull back and look at you questioningly.

You close the little distance between our faces, nose brushing the shell of my ear.

"I want you inside of me."

Your hot breath on my neck is driving me insane. Your hands brush against my hips, and a gasp escapes me as you slide my pants off in one fluid motion and wrap your hand around my shaft. I sit down- hard- on the bed, mind hazing over as you move to straddle me. Even in my current state, I manage to quirk an eyebrow at you.

"I thought you wanted me inside you..?"

"I do." Your hands leave my cock long enough to pull me into a searing kiss. This time I let you control it, let you taste me.

I slide my hands down your finely muscled chest, ghosting over the faint images of bruises left from our last time together. Those memories still send chills down my spine.

I pull back slightly, gasping for air as my fingers wrap around your waistband, exposing you slowly, taking in the sight of you- throbbing and at attention.

A whine catches in the back of your throat.

No more games. I reposition myself, kneeling as I fish the lubricant out of some mysterious corner of my bed. You catch the fluid before it hits my hand. I open my mouth, try to ask- and my mind blanks as you stroke me, greasing me to aid my entry.

Your face scrunches as you impale yourself- slowly- a frown of pained pleasure. I'm riding on pure lust as soon as I feel your tight walls engulf me. It takes all my self-control to not move.

Once I'm fully inside you, I force my eyes open- I don't remember when they closed- seeking yours, held captive with your glance for an instant before you raise yourself up again, setting a slow, sensual pace. We both know that neither of us will be able to keep it up for long- we need this too much.

Something tugs at the back of my mind- a warning, a sound- but I can't place it. Until she's in the doorway. Staring, cerulean eyes glued to your back, your ass, her mouth agape, watching you slide up and down my shaft willingly, listening to your grunts and moans as you work desperately to find release.

Release she couldn't give you.

Release you only find with me.

She glares at me, tears in her eyes, as it hits her; the final piece clicks into place.

I hate her. It washes through me with the pleasure. I snarl as my hips snap up, ramming directly into the spot you sought, making you see stars. Your intelligible cry spurs me on, faster, pushing you to climax. For your need, as much as mine- just as long as she knows the truth, that you're mine, you've always been mine.

And I'm not sharing. Not anymore.

Your nails dig into my shoulders as you match my frenzied thrusts, garbled words and sounds of encouragement falling freely from your lips. I tear my eyes away from that hateful stare to watch you- eyes shut tight, hair sticking to your face and neck, sweat running down your chest.

"Kura-aah!" Your eyes snap open and meet mine as you teeter on the edge. "Please… unh! Mark me…"

Lavender and garnet collide for an instant before I strike, teeth sinking into your shoulder as my hand pumps you in time to my thrusts.

You shudder; a feral scream escapes your lips as your body clenches- once, twice- and your seed splatters my chest. You moan my name; your nails leave half-moons of blood on my shoulders. I thrust into your tight heat once more before I see white and find my own ecstasy.

"I love you." Your voice is muffled by my skin. I smile with that admission.

Somewhere outside the haziness of our passion, a door softly closes. I look up. She's gone. She's heard- and seen- all she needs to.

I pull out and lay back, taking you with me and wrapping the sheets around our still-warm bodies. You look up, eyes heavy-lidded with sleep; your fingers brush my cheek so gently- as if you're afraid this isn't real.

My fingers thread though your golden hair as you drift off, one hand on my cheek, the other cradling your head. A sigh escapes me- half-contented, half sad- as I press my lips to your forehead.

She knows. Tomorrow, reality will come crashing in.

But we're still here.

We're still standing.


End file.
